


Trials

by DreamingAmethystDragons



Category: Final Fantasy XIII, Final Fantasy XIII Series
Genre: AU, Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, F/F, Shapeshifters - Freeform, Slow Burn, cursing, monster hunter organization
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-03
Updated: 2019-01-07
Packaged: 2019-10-03 18:56:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,855
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17289560
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DreamingAmethystDragons/pseuds/DreamingAmethystDragons
Summary: “I think I was dying,” she says.“You’re probably not wrong,” Fang admits.--Fang saves someone she wasn't supposed to.  She knew it would have consequences.  What she doesn't foresee is how much this woman was going to become part of her life, even as they rock the city to its roots.





	1. Chapter 1

“Shit.”  Fang breathes.  “Shit.” 

The woman next to her stirs, blinks blearily.  There are rather sizable holes torn into her coat and shirt, which Fang feels bad about for a passing second because it looked to be rather new clothing, but the magnitude of what she’s just done is crowding in.  Her palms are going to have the indents from the half of her spear for at least the next several days.

Then her earpiece squawks, and Fang winces and presses a hand to her temples.  “ _Fang.  Are you secure?  Over.”_

She breathes out, holds the button to reply.  She feels her heart tumble as she replies, “Yeah, yeah, nothing to report.  All I see are bodies. No more monsters in sight.”

 _“Any wounds?  Or civilians?”_  

Fang glances to the side at the woman now looking down at her tattered clothing, one hand pressed over her abdomen.  Feels one more flutter of panic. Then she says, “Nope. To either. Quiet as the grave.”

“ _Alright.  We’ll regroup in five.  The cleaners will be moving in soon.”_

“Roger that.”  She releases the button with a sigh, finally turning to face the other woman - who is watching her, wariness in her clear blue eyes, one hand still pressed protectively over her abdomen but one, she notices, curled into a fist.  Fang rubs the side of her neck, looking back, then slowly places her weapon on the ground. Looks like she’s going to have to be the one who speaks first. “You aight?”

The woman’s lips twist for a second, and Fang doesn’t miss the split second where her eyes dip.  However, she just rearranges her body up against the wall - trying to minimize weak spots? “I think I was dying,” she says.

“You’re probably not wrong,” Fang admits.  In normal conditions, a human with their gouges in their gut from monster claws dies fast, no way around it.

“I’m not dead.”

“No,” Fang agrees, perhaps somewhat pointlessly.  She tugs at the wrappings around her hands, waiting….

“What did you do?”

Of course.  “Not a thing,” Fang says.  “I just dragged you out of -”

“Bullshit.”  Fang drops her gaze back.  The eyes focused on her are piercing.  “You made me… drink something? I remember that much.”

Damn.  She was hoping the trauma would have whited out that memory.  

“Tell me.”

“You’re just a civvie in the wrong place, weren’tcha?”

“That doesn’t -” The woman makes a sound that’s probably supposed to be of frustration but ends up rumbling out of her chest.  They both freeze - Fang hands itching, the woman’s hand digging into her own belly. Her voice, when she speaks again, is thin.  “What the _fuck_ was…”

“Werewolf.”  Fang touches her spear with a foot, drawing the woman’s attention to the way the silver glints in the low light.  “Usually they aren’t found in such densely populated areas. This one must have wanted to find something and either ran out of time, or ran into something that forced them to morph.  You probably wouldn’t have any idea of the later, huh?”

“... No.  I was off-duty.”

“What?  Wait, are you -”

“An officer.  Part of the corps.”

Well, that twists the wrench even further - or it would if this wasn’t already all blown to shit in the first place.  

“Listen.  We’ve both got to get out of here - I can explain things later.”  Fang pushes to her feet and offers a hand, which the woman hesitates before grabbing.  Her grip is strong, fingers digging against Fang’s skin. “You’ll be fine, for now.”

The woman sways a little when she stretches to her full height, but she settles her shoulders with a frown.  “If you’re trying to be comforting, you’re failing,” she replies. Fang winces. “But fine. How are we -”

“The Stray Cafe, on fifth street.  Meet me there. And, if this all wasn’t obvious, don’t tell anyone else.  I ain’t going to sugarcoat this, but I’ll - it’ll be okay.”

She can tell something’s clicked, and the woman takes a step closer.  For being several inches shorter, there’s something in the way she holds herself that screams diligence, ferocity.  “You weren’t supposed to save me, were you?” 

Fang - did say she wasn’t going to try to soften the blow.  “No. But - I’m Fang. Meet me there tomorrow morning.” 

A heartbeat passes, and to Fang’s surprise, the woman squeezes her wrist before dropping it.  “Lightning. I’ll be there.”


	2. Chapter 2

Lightning shows up half an hour early.  Fang’s not there. She tries to tell herself that’s not too telling. 

She’d passed this tiny little cafe -  _ The Stray Dog -  _ a time or two, usually when on patrol, but she’s never been inside.  The immediate effect, upon entrance, is of dark and warmth. Dark wooden tables, iron lamps, smooth contours and art hung low on the walls give an impression that might be cramped if not for the high ceilings.  Unusually, there are no tvs on the walls, just what appears to be a record player but she’s guessing is just a disguised radio system. She sends her sister a text,  _ I’ll let you know when I’m leaving _ , and holds the off button.  Judging from last night, it’s better to be safe.  

She orders one of the cheaper things on the menu - a kind of herbal mint tea, from the description, and sits in a corner seat.  The barista, a woman with shoulder-length black hair and shoulders bare, gave her a once-over with a quirked eyebrow, but said nothing else.  Lightning leans back in her chair and sighs, looking out the window at the dreary sky - and feels a thread of pain shoot across her torso. She resists the urge to slap her hand against it. 

She doesn’t remember much of yesterday evening.  Blurred lights. Sirens. Snarling. 

But she does remember looking down to blood, pain, too much of both.  

Lightning passes her hand over her eyes.  Trying to remember. 

_ Pain _ .

Then there’s a hand with a cup, waving slowly in her face.  “I see you’re one’a those people who likes to arrive early to everything, yeah?”

_ Fang _ .  

She lowers her hand, trying to make the motion look careful, not startled.  “I figured I may as well be early. Didn’t want to miss you.”

Fang snorts and sits down across from her, throwing an arm over the back of the chair.  She looks relaxed, but Lightning doesn’t miss the way that she shifts so she can still see the door.  “Don’t worry. I’d have been more worried if you hadn’t shown up. It’d be more my hide than yours.”

“Because of yesterday, you mean.”  Lightning takes a sip of tea to calm herself.  The mint flavor sits on the tip of her tongue. 

Fang’s face turns guarded, and she traces her finger on the tabletop.  Lightning follows the motion, watches the very deliberate turns and stops - and is unprepared for the way Fang leans forward across the small table, eyes a shade of green Lightning isn’t quite sure how to describe.  “Do you believe in monsters, sunshine?”

Lightning keeps her cup raised, regards Fang over the top of the lid.  Ignores the name. The phantom pain echoes across her stomach again. No scar, no wound, but remembered pain.  “Not since I was little. I do assume you don’t mean that as in the wild beasts that make themselves nuances on farms or small towns, anyway.”

“Mhmm.  Well, that  _ can _ count, but probably not in the way you’d expect.”  A smile seems to be tugging at the corners of Fang’s mouth.  “But no, I don’t mean wild beasties. I mean  _ monster _ monsters.”

“Fairy-tales.”  She tries to say it flatly. 

“Not as much as you might wish.”

Lightning takes another sip, then says, “Is this really a good place to be discussing this?”

Fang’s eyebrows raise, and then she laughs, actually  _ laughs _ , but quietly.  “Don’t worry. I’ve been a patron here for a long time.  And I know well enough to take precautions. But thanks for worrying.”  Her eyes twinkle, and she looks Lightning up and down, this time more deliberately.  “You don’t seem as freaked out as I thought you might.” 

“I  _ am  _ a Corps officer,” Lightning reminds her.  “I’m sure I could have some stories for you.”  

“I mean, I’m not complaining.  This might make things easier, in a way.”  Fang rests her hand on her cheek. Lightning tries not to watch how the muscles of her shoulder flex as she moves.  “So, am I right in saying you don’t remember much?”

No elaboration needed.  “No.”

“What  _ do  _ you remember?”

What, indeed?  “Pain. Flashing lights.  Yelling. You - making me drink something.”  Her eyes, Fang’s eyes, vivid in the gloom, something like fear and resolve.  “Then waking up by the wall with a lot of phantom sensation.”

Fang nods slowly, eyes distant.  “Well, that’s more than I might have expected.”  She rakes a hand through her hair, hesitates. “You -”

Lightning interrupts.  “There was a monster?”

Fang pauses.  “Yup.” Her tone has gone flat.

“What was it doing?”

“The better question might be  _ why was it there _ .”  Fang sighs through her nose.  “Werewolves don’t usually live in cities.  Those who try to manage their curse live in far more rural places if they live near people to begin with, so they can get away if they feel a transformation coming.  Those who don’t try to manage it - well, they get found out real quick.”

“Werewolves.”

“Yup.  A humanoid-type monster, distinct from shapeshifters in that they can’t choose how and where they transform.  Usually ranked as a two-to-three star threat, depending on the location and other factors.”

Lightning exhales.  “Don’t werewolves only transform during a full moon?”

“Well, usually, but not always.  The transformation can be induced in a handful of ways.”  Fang shoots her a glance, holds her gaze. “That’s what you had the misfortune to run into last night.  You really were in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

Lightning sets the cup down and locks both hands around it, settles her gaze down.  “It attacked me?”

“I can’t say if it was deliberate, or if you were in its way.  I got in the room just in time to catch your thrown body.” Fang closes her eyes.  “Not a pretty sight. Thought you were a corpse until you started choking.”

Snarling.  Darkness. Lightning traces the grain of the table.  “But you saved me.” 

It’s not a question, and luckily Fang picks up on that quickly.  “I did.” For the first time, she sounds a little uncertain. “Please don’t ask how.  There’s a reason I told you to run last night after it all went down.”

“You weren’t supposed to?”

The corners of Fang’s mouth turn down.  “If you hadn’t gathered - and from your questions, you have - there’s an organization that handles this kinda thing, and yeah, we’re not.  Usually because the victims, if they live, are security problems at best. But.” Her shoulders tense. “I don’t know. I didn’t -” 

“Didn’t what?”

Fang gives her a long look, eyes steady in the dimness of the room.  “I don’t know. I just looked at you, and I thought -  _ I don’t want her to die _ .  And here we are.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You all get your coffeeshop AUs, but not in the way you expect. 
> 
> Again, thanks for reading. :)

**Author's Note:**

> As always, thanks for reading!


End file.
